Now you already know that I live next to Gert Whipple's double block. A double block is a great big house twice the size of normal houses, cut in half with two different people living in each half, with their own front door. The double block sits in line with 3 other houses, and creates a living situation called a patch. The least we can all do is make an effort to get along with our neighbors just long enough to coordinate the exteriors and ensure maximum curb appeal at all times.
Last Christmas, I
decorated my house with snowy white Christian lights, and thought it would be nice to coordinate our holiday exteriors to ensure maximum curb appeal.
Well on the other side of me in the patch is Rosemary, who used heathen multicolors last year. She did this on purpose after all the neighbors had agreed on white. Here we are, months
later, she remains a thorn in my side that I simply must take care of.
When I was on the corner leafleting again today, she passed
me by, so I decided to show her a thing or two about the Holy Spirit, who works
in mysterious ways. "Katty Maureen, your leaflets are blowing everywhere,
and if you don’t stop, I will call the cops," she screamed at me, but I
prepared myself. Just as she came close to me, I fell to the ground, as if she
had kicked me. I screamed as loudly as I
could, and since I have the gift of frailty on my side, it sometimes raises the
ire of a passerby.
Well Rosemary after she was done hollering, walked away and nobody came to my assistance. I soiled a pair of gabardine slacks in a mud puddle, and the police refused to accept my calls again today, which, I
believe is against the law. I was calling yesterday to report a different, unrelated infraction of the law.
Later on, I took a brown grocer sack and emptied 2 bottles
of Colgate Aloe Shaving cream into it. I
put the spout of the bag under the crack of her front door. Then I rang the
doorbell, and when I heard her footsteps on the other side, I stomped on the
bag to force the shaving cream into her home, and I hurried away.
I didn't dare look behind me, and as she screamed, I ran to my front door and
locked it as silently as I could. Lord only knows what Rosemary was doing in
there with her man-friend and the lights off. I hardly think her late husband
would approve of her new man friend piece named Lester, owner of a Chevelle with a very
loud exhaust pipe, but the two of them probably got the surprise of their
lives, splattered with shaving foam.
Rosemary has had this coming to her for a long time. Do not cross a God fearing, outspoken Catholic advocate such as
myself. I was only thinking of the greater good.
Yours in the Love of Christ,
Mrs. Walter J. Katsellas
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